


The Break In

by Neyiea



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 02:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>60 years after being raised from the ice Jack Frost stumbles across Santoff Claussen for the first time. It takes another 13 years for him to sneak inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Break In

**Author's Note:**

> For the RotG Big Bang: Lightning Round.

It's been sixty years since he'd risen from the ice, sixty years of travelling the globe in search of someone, anyone, to talk to. He tries to communicate in any way he can, leaving secret messages hidden in the frost he spreads over windows, building the foundation of a snow fort overnight, giving children endless ammunition in their snowball fights, but no one seems to notice, and so he remains unseen. Sometimes he worries that for people to take notice he'll have to do something drastic, and if the next sixty years ahead of him will be anything like the last, he may reach a point where he doesn't mind.

He usually doesn't travel too far north or south, the lack of people around either of the Poles make him feel more isolated than usual, but today he feels listless and maybe a little more hopeless than usual, so he just lets the wind carry him wherever it wants without complaint. He's been riding a particular current for hours, dozing off and on, when he opens his eyes and sees a large gathering of buildings in the distance; vibrant and colourful against a backdrop of white.

He'd had no idea that there were settlements this far north, how did they survive the cold conditions all year round?

Curiosity bubbled up inside him. "Wind," he whispers, "take me closer."

He glided forward, eyes seeking out every detail and soon enough he spotted a group of people, all of them wearing incredibly crafted fur coats. But wait. He dropped down to the ground and crept forward, curiosity slowly being replaced by anxiety. They weren't people at all. They were some sort of fur covered creature, as big as any bear Jack had ever seen, maybe bigger, but the way they moved and communicated with each other seemed almost human.

Against his better judgment he stayed to do some tests. Sometimes animals, while they couldn't exactly see him, could sense when he was around and if these creatures’ temperaments happened to be a little more bear than human, well, he knew the wind would sweep him away to safety before any harm could come to him.

He deftly scooped up some snow and rolled it around in his hands.

Ready. Aim. Fire.

He hit one of the creatures right between the eyes and it threw up it's hands, making disgruntled noises while the others around it laughed. Until they were hit too.

The group hastily began searching around and the wind, ever cautious, scooped Jack up before he could be found.

Jack laughed and laughed, even harder and slightly more hysteric when the creatures looked up to stare right at him, one of them shaking a fist in his direction.

They could hear him, they could see him! They weren't human and they didn't seem very fond of his idea of fun, but it was a start.  
He would definitely be coming back here again.

So for over a decade, every time he felt a little too isolated and alone and especially during the months when neither the northern nor the southern hemisphere were experiencing winter he found himself flying north to prank and terrorize the creatures, who he eventually found out were yetis.

It was amazing, the languages you could learn when you had nothing else to do. He still wasn't fluent but he was definitely beginning to understand the various explicatives they shouted whenever he showed up, and he learned that the name of the first yeti he’d ever pegged with a snowball was Phil.

A yeti named Phil. Imagine that.

It was usually Phil who caught him whenever he was causing a ruckus or trying to slip into windows. But that was going to change this time around. 

It was a very mild December in his beloved home of Burgess and he hadn't quite felt up to freezing ponds and painting frost onto window panes only for all his hard work to dissolve away within an hour. So he'd started travelling north where he could create snow without worrying it would melt as soon as it touched the ground and eventually he made it all the way to the yeti town.

None of them were outside, which was strange, and none of them leapt out at him as he began searching for an unlocked window, which was stranger still. But this was his chance to finally sneak inside. It took him a while but he finally found a widow that had been cracked open and he pushed against the glass until it slid the rest of the way.

It was a tight fit, he was barely able to get his shoulders through, but he did it, he was inside.

He looked around the room excitedly, eyes taking in every detail.

There were long rows of shelves with metal cans stacked upon each ledge. Each can had a label with a stripe of colour running down the side. Red, yellow, blue and every colour in between, some hues he didn't think he'd ever encountered before. 

He trailed his fingers along the cans, delighting in the way each new shade seemed to shine with an untold brightness when covered in a layer of his frost.

He paused suddenly and whipped around, staff at the ready and ears straining.

He was sure he'd heard something.

There it was again! A faint jingling, growing fainter by the second.

He chased after it excitedly. He'd never seen a yeti wearing bells before, maybe it was a younger one, around his size and not as easily annoyed. It was nice to be seen, but having someone to play with would be even better. He followed the sound out an open door and down an empty hallway, turning right and down another hall where a door had just shut.

Jack crept forward, grinning, he'd seen children play hide and seek before, it was a lot more fun than he thought it would be.

He threw the door open and jumped into the room with a shout, only to find it empty.

"Where did-"

"Turn around, slowly." A deep voice commanded from behind him and Jack, ignoring the order, whirled around as quickly as possible.

Did one of the yetis actually know how to speak English?

But it wasn't a yeti behind him. It was a large, disgruntled looking man in an incredibly red suit with white hair and black ink covering his forearms. In one hand he held a sword and cradled in his other arm was a tiny person wearing a pointed hat with a bell on top, who was pointing at him with a shaking hand.

"You both can see me?" He whispered to himself as he stared, heart beating a mile a minute.

Wait a minute; tiny person, pointed hat, something about that seemed familiar.

"Is that an elf?" Jack questioned, stepping forward boldly.

"Of course is elf, what else would it be?" The man asked with a frown. "And only I get to terrorize elves! What are you doing in here, Jack Frost?"

Jack felt as though all the air had left his lungs.

"You... You know my name?"

The man's eyebrows furrowed. "Of course I know your name, it is part of my job to keep track of that sort of thing."

Jack smiled brightly. Best. Day. Ever.

"What's your job?"

The man visibly deflated, any leftover anger disappearing as the metaphorical wind was taken out of his sails.

"You do not know who I am?"

"No. But you know who I am!" Jack skipped closer, delighted, eyes avidly taking in every detail of the man in front of him. "I thought only yetis lived up here."

"No, not just yetis." The man carefully set the elf down and put his sword away. "You really do not recognize me? With the elves and northern workshop and red suit?" He gestured to himself wildly.

"Should I?"

"Sh-should you? I am Nichloas St. North, better know as Father Christmas!"

Jack blinked mutely.

"Pere Noel, Ded Moroz, Saint Nicholas, Santa Claus! Are none of these ringing bell? You have been tormenting yetis for years and you did not know who they worked for?"

Jack stared at him. He'd heard of Santa before, he was always mentioned in the winter months in the northern hemisphere, but...

"There's no way you're Santa."

"What? Of course I am Santa, who else would I be?"

"But you're too muscular, and you're not wearing glasses, your cheeks aren't rosy, you're not old enough, and you've got tattoos on your arms!"

Nicholas St. North ran a hand over his eyes. It was less than two weeks until Christmas, he didn't have time for this, however...

He peered at the boy through his fingers. Jack Frost was currently crouching down next the the elf that he had, perhaps not intentionally, frightened just a few minutes ago. He seemed so young, so much younger than he'd pictured Jack whenever Phil went off on a rant about him.

"Jack, how old are you?"

"Uh." Jack quickly tallied up the years. Sixty before he knew about the yetis, and thirteen after. "I'm almost seventy three."

"Let me rephrase; how old are you physically?"

"I don't know, how old do I look?"

Like a boy on the cusp of adulthood, so close to being a grown up, but not quite there yet.

"Never you mind." Two weeks to Christmas or not, he couldn't just kick the boy out. He had enough time for a short break, at the very least. Hopefully.

"Jack, would you walk with me?"

"Sure!" Jack rose up from where he'd been kneeling next to the elf, watching with amusement as it scurried away, an eager sort of happiness as plain as the nose on his face. He followed after North in a way reminiscent of an excited puppy, never straying far from North's side even as his gaze whipped around.

They entered one of the many levels if his workshop, all the yetis going into overdrive for the final push and North felt a burst of fondness when Jack let out a gasp of pure wonder at the sight.

"You really are Santa."

"Yes, yes, but you may call me North."

The younger immortal cocked his head to the side. "I thought your name was supposed to be Kris Kringle."

"I have many names, some more widely used than others." North pushed open the door to his personal office and lead the boy inside. "They all refer to me so they are all, in a way, correct, but North is the name I have been known by the longest." He pulled out a chair for Jack and then made his way behind his desk. "You have been around for seventy three years and you have not heard the name North before now?" How was that even possible? Sometimes he felt like he and the other Guardians were the only ones the other spirits ever gossiped about.

"Not that I can recall." Jack sat down and North followed suit. "But other spirits don't really talk to me much, so..." he trailed off awkwardly and shifted in his seat. 

"Can I get you anything? Hot cocoa, cookies, fruitcake?"

"No thanks, I'm good." Jack poked at the shattered remains of one of North's sculptures. "Why have you got ice all over your desk?"

North sighed.

"Yetis are excellent workers, but sometimes they are very bad with manners. Always I am reminding them to knock, but they seem to have selective hearing." He gently picked up a shard and gazed at it forlornly. He'd been fine tuning the details with his smallest chisel when a yeti had burst in about a mess in the mail room and his hand had slipped.

"That sounds about right." Jack said, picking up two pieces and fitting them together like pieces of a puzzle. North watched in amazement as he fused them back into one piece.

"How?"

Jack shrugged and searched through the other segments. "I'm a winter spirit, ice is kind of my thing." He made quick work of the destroyed replica of the sleigh, soon the only piece missing was the one that North was holding. Jack silently held out his palm and North handed the shard over, unable to hold back a smile as the piece easily slid and was frozen into place.

"Remarkable."

Jack smiled brightly at the praise and set the miniature sleigh down with reverent care. North took it into his own hands to observe Jack's work, looking it over with bright eyes. You would never be able to tell that it had been broken in the first place.

"Very fine work. It is not often I come across spirits with an eye for this sort of thing."

Jack hummed lowly, obviously pleased.

"You may even be on par with yeti when it comes to workmanship." He leaned slightly closer over his desk and shared a secretive smile. "We will have to see where you stand manners-wise. Though you have only broken in this one time."

Then as if illustrating his point a yeti barged in, arms waving frantically as he informed North of paint that was streaking and not drying evenly no matter how many coats they used.

"I will be there in a moment." He turned back to Jack and couldn't help but wish they'd met at a less hectic time. With only two weeks until Christmas and so many last minute issues to resolve it was a miracle he'd allowed himself to be pulled away from his work by the elf Jack had been chasing in the first place. 

"Now then Jack, Christmas is just around corner and I can't have you running around distracting yetis from their tasks." He winced as Jack visibly wilted. "But if you promise not to bother them when they work you are welcome inside of Santoff Claussen any time." He made his way out from behind his desk.

"Really?" Jack's whole face lit up and North fretfully wondered if he'd ever been invited inside anyone's home for the past seventy three years.

"Really."

Jack rose from his chair, gripping at his staff tightly. "Could I... Can I help you make ice sculptures?"

North laughed and clapped a hand against Jack's back. "Of course! I would be very pleased if you would assist me!"

"Great! I guess you're going to be busy for a while, and you'll probably want a couple of days to rest... Do you think I could come up on January first?"

"Sounds like excellent idea."

Jack's smiled widened even further. "Wonderful, I'll see you then!"

He took off, probably heading to the window he'd snuck in through.

"You can come in through front door next time!" He called after him and Jack nearly tripped over himself turning around to wave.

North chuckled to himself in amusement as he made his way towards the painting zone. Jack, he decided, would definitely be getting something for a belated Christmas gift this year. Anyone willing to help him out with his ice sculptures were automatically on the Nice List.

He was Santa, he was allowed to play favourites. 

In the meantime, though, he had some paint problems to solve.


End file.
